Chosen

Christmas, so I sent you something I know you'll like. Hey! It doesn't have anything
    to do with Christmas! Duh! I'm hating the stupid Cayman Islands and this boring vacation with my parents and I'm counting the days till I can be with you again. See you on the 26th! I heart you! Heath

    "Oh," I repeated like a total moron. "It's, uh, from Heath." I wished I could make myself disappear.
    "Please. Just please. Why didn't you tell anyone that you don't like birthday presents that have anything to do with Christmas?" Shaunee asked in her usual no-nonsense way.
    "Yeah, all you had to do was say something," Erin said.
    "Uh," I said succinctly.
    "We thought the snowman theme was a cute idea, but it's not if you hate Christmas stuff," Damien said.
    "I don't hate Christmas stuff," I managed to say.
    "I like snow globes," Jack said softly, looking like he was about to cry. "The snowy part makes me happy."
    "Looks like Heath knows more about what you like than we do." Erik's voice was flat and emotionless, but his eyes were dark with hurt, which made my stomach clench.
    "No, Erik, it's not like that," I said quickly, taking a step toward him.
    He moved back like I had some kind of awful disease he might catch, and suddenly it really pissed me off. It wasn't my fault that Heath had known me since I was in third grade and had figured out the mushed birthmas present issue years ago. Okay, yes, he knew stuff about me that the rest of them didn't. There was nothing weird about that! The kid had been in my life for seven years. Erik and Damien, the Twins and Jack had been in my life for two months—or less. How was that my fault?
    Purposefully, I made a show of looking at my watch. "I'm supposed to meet my grandma at Starbucks in fifteen minutes. I better not be late." I walked over to the door, but paused before I left the room. I turned around and looked at my group of friends. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings. I'm sorry if Heath's note made you guys feel bad—but that's not my fault. And I did tell someone that I don't like it when people try to mush my birthday together with Christmas—I told Stevie Rae."

CHAPTER THREE

    The Starbucks at Utica Square, the cool outdoors shopping center that was right down the street from the House of Night, was a lot busier than I'd thought it would be. I mean, sure, it was an unusually warm winter night, but it was also December 24, and almost nine o'clock. You'd think people would be home getting ready for visions of sugarplums and whatnot, and not out looking for a caffeine buzz.
    No, I told myself sternly, I am not going to be in a bad mood for Grandma. I hardly ever get to see her, and I'm not going to spoil the little time we have together. Plus, Grandma was totally hip to the fact that birthmas presents were lame. She always got me something as unique and wonderful as she is.
    "Zoey! I'm over here!"
    At the far edge of the Starbucks sidewalk area I could see Grandma's arms waving at me. This time I didn't have to plant a fake smile on my face. The rush of happiness seeing her always brought me was authentic and had me dodging through the crowd as I hurried to her.
    "Oh, Zoeybird! I've missed you so, U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya!" The Cherokee word for daughter wrapped around me, along with my grandma's warm, familiar arms that held the sweet, soothing scent of lavender and home. I clung to her, absorbing love and security and acceptance.
    "I've missed you, too, Grandma."
    She squeezed me one more time and then held me back at arm's length. "Let me look at you. Yes, I can tell that you're seventeen. You look so much more mature, and I think a little taller than you did when you were merely sixteen."
    I grinned. "Oh, Grandma, you know I don't look any different."
    "Of course you do. Years always add beauty and strength to a certain type of woman—and you're that type."
    "So are you, Grandma. You look great!" I wasn't just saying that. Grandma was a zillion years old—at least somewhere in her fifties—but she looked ageless to me. Okay, not ageless like vamp women who looked twenty-something at fifty-something (or one hundred and fifty something). Grandma was an adorable human ageless with her thick silver hair and her kind brown eyes.
    "I do wish you didn't have to cover your lovely tattoos to meet me here." Grandma's fingers rested briefly on my cheek where I'd hastily patted the thick concealing makeup fledglings were required to wear when they left the House of Night campus. Yes,